


the dust dances

by alternate_me



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, End of Days, F/M, Gen, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 22:04:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2444780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alternate_me/pseuds/alternate_me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As in every aspect of his life, there were many versions concerning the Doctor’s death. Some people say that, in the end, he finally did it, he finally returned home. Others say he died on Earth, the planet he had saved so many times and loved so much it had become his new home. Others choose to believe he’s still alive, and there are some that don’t want to raise any hypothesis.<br/>Now, here is one of the many discussed versions of how the Doctor died.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the dust dances

**Author's Note:**

> _this_ is probably the result of me missing Ten and Rose after watching The Impossible Planet/The Satan Pit again.  
>  also, in my story, Gallifrey has still burnt. thought it was important mentioning.

No one knows exactly when the Doctor died. Or how. 

At some point, his timeline just went missing. No one could keep accompanying it, and it sort of got lost. It’s a dreadful thought though, to think the Doctor died alone. All those companions, all the things he’d done, and he probably died somewhere out in space, without no one really knowing, no one even noticing it. Everyone else carried on with their lives, the Doctor ended up alone with his memories. In the end, despite always moving forward, he was the one left _behind_.

And time and space are so vast, so unthinkable large, that it’s probably almost impossible finding him. Maybe someday, someone will. Someone will spot a blue box lost in a basement, or at the bottom of the ocean, or even orbiting a distant planet in the farther border of the universe. A blue box that has been there for centuries, for thousands of years. No one really controlling it. No one really inside. 

All the time he’d met someone new, when he’d grabbed their hand and whispered _“Run”_ , every time they’d been with him, he was already dead somewhere. All the time. And he knew it. And it should really scare him.

Maybe that’s why he ran. That’s why he never stopped, he never settled down. He was afraid that, someday, everything he was would die with him. He was alone in all space and time. Lots of places to go, and the constant sensation it would all be worthless if there was no one there with him to see the things he saw, to share of his knowledge, to take a part of his hearts with them. Someone to remember him. The largest number of people he could find.

He’s run enough.

Now, he’s still out there, and he always will be. His name lives on. It’s whispered, shouted, prayed throughout the universe. Words travelling in space and time on the mouth of everyone he knew, everyone he changed.

_Doctor_

_Doctor_

The words are out there, and we all, at some point, hear them. 

Words have strength. Somehow, they keep him alive.

# .

The Doctor became something of a myth, or, it’s better said his story travels from time to time with so many versions, and there are so many different adventures, that no one really knows the whole of it. Sometimes there are diversions on how a story happened, and the truth is so often lost, there is no way of knowing who’s right and who’s not. 

As in every aspect of his life, there are many versions concerning the Doctor’s death. It’s probably all made up, but people still listen, and argue about it, and choose one timeline to believe in. Some people say that, in the end, he finally did it, he finally returned home. Others say he died on Earth, the planet he had saved so many times and loved so much it had become his new home. Others choose to believe he’s still alive, and there are some that don’t want to raise any hypothesis.

Here is one of the many discussed versions of his death. 

There are people who say the Doctor died far from home. Even farther than he’d ever gone. 

These people say he knew his time had come, as only the Doctor would know, and he pulled his last card. The card he’d been saving for that moment. And he found himself some black hole, some supernova, _something_ , and he got far away. 

Another planet, another time, another universe.

_Everyone leaves home in the end._

The Doctor left for his last trip, to the end of the universe. He thought it matched his situation in some way, almost in an ironic one. He stopped the Tardis next to the last burning star and sat on the doorway, his legs balancing above nothingness, infinite darkness of some strange universe he’d never had the chance of knowing. The thought of dying far away bothered him for a while. But it hardly mattered. What was the thing to be away from anyway? His home had burned a long time ago. For all he knew, the place he was at that moment was his home as any other place he could have gone to would be.

But _that_ place had something else.

The sun colored the whereabouts in sick reddish. Rocks that once were planets still orbited its dying gravity center which was about to expand. Clouds of dust danced around the Tardis, “floating” in the vacuum. They were everywhere. Everything that was left of a whole universe was in front of him. Past lives, stories, people. Stardust. 

It all revolved outside, and, inside his mind, the Doctor watched his own memories, his own dust dancing to him.

In time, it would all burn, and then the sun would turn into a black hole and consume anything that had escaped its flames. Apparently no living form had made it to that point - as there was no one there with the Doctor. He thought it was for the best. It was all so sad. The very ending of live. The triumph of Death. All so quiet. It wouldn’t be right to bring someone full of life there. Also because he didn’t intend on going back. His only companions were now the dead, the past ones. 

There was nothing left for him to do, nothing but one thing. The last thing. The thing he’d gone there for. His sad eyes scanned the dust, as if they wanted to recognize something in it.

“I love you” he suddenly muttered, and his voice of thousands of years sounded so loud in the stillness. And it was so tired.

We’re all born out of dust. Ancient dust of billions of years, that’s all we are, that’s all we become. She was somewhere out there, in the dust, in the sky. She was all around him. 

He stood, looking back to the console of his ship and then out again to everything that was left. This was his very last chance to say it.

“ _I love you_ ” he shouted, covering his mouth with his hands, the tears leaving his eyes. And he laughed, his mind reminding him of her smile and her hair, of the warmth of her hand in his. 

The universe was quiet, it was dying. He was dying. But she was there. He knew it. He believed in her. She was beside him, laughing, holding his hand, telling him that if there was nothing they could do, then it was better she was there with him.

His hand closed in itself, squeezing thin air.

He’d never doubted it, not for one second in all those years. He’d never doubted that, in the end, he’d come back to her. And right there, in the dying universe where she had spent the last of her days, there was where he belonged to. The only place it felt right to go to in the end, so he could be with her- 

“Forever” he told the dust.

The explosions of the star suddenly became more violent. Any second now. The Tardis started making noises, warning him of the danger, almost asking him to escape that certain end. But there was no way back. It was time.

_I’m sorry I could never settle down. I’m sorry._

The Doctor threw one last look to his ship, to the console where, hours ago, he had deactivated the major defense mechanisms, leaving them helpless. The Tardis was quiet, her protests had ceased. They were now two silent accomplices. They would die together and they both knew it. The Doctor smiled sadly and leaned a hand on the door frame.

“Time to stop running, my darling” 

He looked back at the star, at the giant waves of fire that advanced fast towards him. He faced them, not as he would face death, but as he would face an old friend. He saw her blonde hair on the fire. He wouldn’t even be surprised if he discovered that sun was called Bad Wolf in some ancient, dead language. He closed his eyes.

_Rose._ Rose. _I love you._

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I hope you guys have enjoyed it.  
> Please, let me know what you think :)


End file.
